


Melbourne, 1929

by vanillafluffy



Category: In Like Flynn, Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Not RPF, Older Woman/Younger Man, Phryne as Cougar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 08:31:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17597852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillafluffy/pseuds/vanillafluffy
Summary: After being chased by a murder suspect, Phryne makes a new friend.





	Melbourne, 1929

“Bit of a close call, that was--” The young man smiles engagingly at Phryne, hardly winded by their pell-mell rush through the midnight streets of Melbourne. 

She manages to catch her breath, and listens for sounds of pursuit, which are mercifully absent. It’s just the two of them in the alley, yet she doesn’t feel afraid--after all, her pistol is in her handbag and there’s a small but sharp blade concealed in her pendant. 

“Not as close as all that,” she retorts, reaching up to adjust her hat. “I know why he was annoyed with me--what did _you_ do to provoke him?”

“Nothing. That is, I accepted an invitation…I wasn’t aware that the lady extending it was married.”

“Dear, dear.” He’s rather young--on the sunny side of twenty-five, she guesses, but there’s a roguish gleam in his eye that suggests it wasn’t his first dalliance. “And since I’m pursuing him as a suspect in a very nasty murder, we may assume that he could have done worse than give you a thrashing.”

Even with a furrowed brow, he’s quite pretty. Phryne likes young men to be decorative--this one has wavy hair falling across his forehead, shadowing his eyes--but even in this wretched light, his bone structure is delightful. Classical profile, strong chin, sensitive mouth--she’d rather like to kiss that mouth, she muses--and perhaps discover why he exudes the sexual confidence of a much older man.

He’s regarding her thoughtfully. “I’m a bit overdressed for our current milieu,” she drawls, knowing that even so, her Egyptian-inspired gown does all the right things for her figure. “Perhaps we could go back to my place for a drink so you can tell me everything you know about my suspect--and his wife.”

There’s that dazzling smile again. “You’re not married, are you?”

“No, I am _not_ ,” she assures him. Whatever she and Jack are to each other, it isn’t husband and wife. “My name is Phryne Fisher, and you are?”

“Charmed to meet you, Miss Phryne Fisher. I’m Errol Flynn.”

….

**Author's Note:**

> I just saw "In Like Flynn" this afternoon, and it occurred to me that Flynn and Phryne were both Down Under at the right time to have crossed paths. So I made it happen.


End file.
